Metallover's Self Insert Supports
by metallover
Summary: SI. OC. AU. Short snippets of daily life for the other characters in the Metallover-verse. What goes on behind the closed doors of the Officer's Barracks in Ylisse's Royal Army? What happened to Tharja and Gaius on their trip to Plegia? All these questions and more within! Initially a Patreon exclusive, now public for all the world to see!
1. Chapter 1

**(I don't own Fire Emblem, blah blah blah, insert standard disclaimer here)**

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**STOP! This is a side story to my series **_**Metallover's Self Insert Adventure**_**. It will make absolutely zero sense unless you have read that, too. You have been warned.**

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**Introduction: So, to keep my ass safe from Nintendo Lawyers ™, I'll be starting to upload this series to FF and AO3, too. These shorts, Metallover's Self Insert Supports, are a side-story to the main canon Self Insert story. They get posted to my (P)atreon twice a month, with artwork that will remain (P)atreon exclusive. This story will update monthly, with two 'conversations' a chapter. Aside from that, they're pretty self-explanatory. Support conversation style shorts starring the other characters of the Metallover-verse. I've actually started really liking writing these shorts, so I'm excited to share them here with everyone.**

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**Chapter 1 – Virion & Olivia**

C-Level Support

Olivia leaned back in the high-backed lounge chair she had claimed, doing her best not to groan with satisfaction as she finally got off her feet. It had been another long day of preparing supplies for the other platoons of the Royal Ylissean First Heavy Infantry, and while the work was rewarding it was also exhausting. Night had fallen not that long ago, and after a dinner that Olivia was so exhausted she didn't even remember eating she had slunk off up to the Officers' Quarters of the barracks.

Ever since Virion and the First Platoon had made a show of helping during the flooding in the southern territories their numbers had almost tripled, and it was getting to be too much for Olivia's small Third Platoon to handle alone. Yet all of the new recruits were being trained for the Second and the new Fourth and Fifth platoons, leaving the couple dozen soldiers under Olivia's leadership out in the cold. At least Anna was being helpful, organizing more uniforms and weapons with her and helping with some of the more esoteric paperwork. Toady, too was being surprisingly helpful when he wasn't off blowing stuff up with the time-traveler Laurent. But Virion and Ricken were totally absorbed with their own platoons, and Ben was… well, Ben was busy being Ben. No doubt he'd help if Olivia asked, but their General would no doubt drag Lucina along with him, then Noire would catch wind and want to spend time with her father, that pyromaniac Laurent would end up getting involved too, Robin would tag along just to laugh at the mess and pretty soon all the work Olivia needed to get done would be doubled in the ensuing chaos. Said chaos tended to follow Ben wherever he went, which meant that at the moment Olivia needed him far away from her work.

She sunk a little deeper into the plush cushions of the chair, wishing that she'd had the energy to remove her boots, at the least.

Olivia, like all the other dual Shepherds/Officers, had taken to wearing the duty tunic of the Royal First when she was working. The muted blue tunic she wore was currently hanging open, the core of her dancer's attire and her bare midriff visible beneath. In fact, she still wore her dancer's clothes every day beneath the uniform as a matter of comfort and security; she felt more confident, more in control of her shyness when she was wearing it. She would just leave the flowing decorative gossamer and silk sections off to streamline it enough to fit under the uniform.

The dancer knew it was silly, but it still definitely made her feel better about being in a position of authority she didn't feel like she'd earned.

Her maudlin thoughts were interrupted as heavy footsteps announced another person approaching the small common area, an exhausted and shambling Virion appearing out of the short hallway. He paused when he spotted Olivia, clearly debating drawing himself up and brushing off his fatigue to flirt the way he always did, but exhaustion won out and the archer merely shuffled across the room and fell into the chair opposite her.

"By the gods, what a day," he groaned, propping his feet up on the low table between them. "At least we know we have Bertha's cooking to look forward to now."

Olivia gave a tired giggle, grinning at the taller man who was slouching almost exactly the same way she was. Virion glanced up at her, tiredly pulling at his ever-present cravat and failing to do any more than loosen it.

"I-I… think that's the most normal I've ever heard you sound," she smiled.

"And that, my dear, is the least I've ever heard you stutter," Virion grinned back.

They shared a tired smile, both too exhausted to even laugh. Olivia wouldn't say it to his face, but she was actually rather comfortable around Virion. Ever since he had taught her the traditional ballroom dancing of his homeland during the war with Plegia she had found herself less nervous in his presence. Until he started flirting. She still didn't know how to deal with the flirting. Usually she ignored it.

"I do say, though, that our vaunted General seems intent on working us to death," Virion groaned, eyes drifting closed. "I fear if I try to rise now I will end up running another set of laps around the barracks simply from habit!"

Olivia chuckled a little, leaning her head back again.

"I know what you mean," she said. "I'm so buried under uniforms and armor I'm afraid I'll never come up for air! I'm so tired I don't even think I could dance right now!"

"Ah, such is the pity," Virion sighed. "Truly, I could use one of your restorative dances at present. Then, perhaps, I could keep up with the crippling pace Ben has set for the combat platoons."

The archer's thin face turned into a weak scowl, his brow furrowing above closed eyes.

"That he expects the First Platoon to outperform every other platoon is all well and good, but how am I supposed to keep pace and still lead the rest of the regiment?" Virion complained. "I fear I am very nearly at my wit's end!"

"We could tell him that we're being pushed too hard," Olivia suggested.

Virion sighed out his nose, cracking one eye to glance at her.

"Do you really think that would work?" he asked, his tone telling her that the answer was no. "Ever since the most beauteous princess Lucina has revealed her identity to us he has been as a man possessed. Even _his _training regime eclipses my own! At this very moment he is up on his little perch, 'pumping iron' as he put it."

"I thought he just went up there to smoke with Robin," Olivia said.

"No, fairest Olivia, he is up there continuing to train," Virion sighed, closing his eyes again. "It is why he is always so grumpy come breakfast."

"Maybe… we can talk to Robin, then? Over breakfast?" Olivia suggested.

Virion made a noncommittal grunt, turning his head a little.

"I mean, I know she's just as busy as we are, trying to keep up with training and her duties as tactician, but she'd understand, right?"

When no response came Olivia leaned forward slightly, looking closer at the archer.

"Virion?"

The man let out a soft snore, eliciting another giggle from the dancer. With pained, aching slowness Olivia climbed to her feet and went to Virion's room. She took the blanket off his bed and brought it back to the common room, putting it over the man and tucking it in around his shoulders.

"I'll talk to Robin tomorrow," she promised. "You just worry about resting. But right now, I need these boots off my feet."

* * *

Virion & Olivia B-Rank

Another evening had come after yet another long day of hard work, and although she was once again exhausted Olivia had a distinct spring in her step as she came into the Officers' Quarters' common room, one she felt she had been lacking for the last few weeks.

As she had said to a most-likely unconscious Virion a few days ago, Olivia had spoken to Robin about their little problem with the work load, and she had promised to pass on their complaints to Ben.

Olivia had also managed to do a considerable amount of the work that had been backing up, getting the majority of the new uniforms and equipment packets sent out to the new platoons. Her storage room looked much cleaner, the blacksmiths in the Third Platoon would be taking the rest of the week off for a well-earned rest, and Bertha had even made her favorite pie for dinner. Everything was beginning to come up-

"Heya Pinkie-pie, got a minute?"

The dancer froze like a rabbit in front of a wolf at the sound of the singular nickname, slowly turning to see Ben ambling towards her. He was glancing down at the stack of papers in his hands, looking down at them distractedly as he leafed through them, the lamplight reflecting off the bald skin of his head.

"Uh, B-Ben I… uh…" Olivia stammered.

The bearded General didn't even break stride or look up, apparently finding the bundle he was looking for in his pile and handing them off to her as he walked past.

"Just finished with some new requisition orders. Can you cross-check to make sure we don't double anything up before sending them to Anna in the morning? That stingy bitch already gets enough money out of us, I don't need to make it too easy for her. Thanks, you're a doll. I'll be upstairs with Robin if you need us."

She watched him pass and head straight for the stairs with his nose still buried in his own papers, the exchange happening faster than Olivia could even think to say no. Once he had disappeared Olivia looked down at the new bundle of papers in her hands and had to fight very hard not to burst into tears. 'In the morning' he'd said. Which meant she could either go and get this done now or risk trying to get up early enough to do it before Anna arrived, and given how tired she was there was no way Olivia wouldn't oversleep.

With a tired, angry sob, Olivia turned on her heel and shuffled back the way she'd come, making for her store room.

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"Stupid, lousy, jerk-faced… meanie!"

Olivia huffed as she moved boxes of supplies around her store room, carefully inspecting their contents against the requisition orders that Ben had given her. While the timid dancer was still being very careful, anyone that knew her would have seen the minute extra force with which she was moving the crates. For her, this was practically throwing them around the room.

She gave another sigh, waving some air into her face as she stopped for a breather. It had taken her two hours, but she was almost finished. After barely twenty minutes she had gotten hot and frustrated enough to shed her duty tunic, and now worked in her chest wrap and uniform leggings, her bare skin sheening with perspiration.

"Ah! There you are my dearest- by the gods, woman, what have you been doing in here!?"

Glancing up at the cry Olivia watched a stunned Virion approach, looking at the short stacks of crates filling the room.

"Working," Olivia huffed.

"Still!?" Virion asked, aghast.

Olivia huffed again, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"You can thank our fearless leader for that!" she snapped.

"Why Olivia, I think this is the most animated I've ever seen you," Virion chuckled.

"You can thank that… that… big ass-face for that, too!" Olivia grimaced.

Even after being around someone as foul-mouthed as Ben for so long she still just couldn't bring herself to curse like he did.

"I trust your conversation with Robin amounted to little, then?" Virion asked, leaning against one of the crates.

"I only managed to speak to her today, over dinner," Olivia sighed. "I've just been so busy, and we kept missing each other…"

"Oh, believe me, fairest Olivia, I know the feeling…" Virion chuckled. "Why, just today-"

"I mean really!" Olivia cut him off hotly. "What kind of jerk sees someone winding down for the day and dumps more work on them!? Did he not notice the sun had gone down!?"

Virion blinked in mild surprise at the uncharacteristic outburst, Olivia catching herself and instantly turning scarlet from her shoulders up in embarrassment as her mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments.

"Oh gods I'm so embarrassed!" she cried, hiding her face with her hands. "I'm so sorry Virion, forget you saw me like this! Ohhh…"

The archer gave a small chuckle, bouncing off the crate he was against with his hip and approaching the distraught woman.

"I am afraid I don't think I'll ever forget the sight of you so impassioned," Virion declared.

"I could just die of embarrassment right now," Olivia groaned through her hands.

"Come now, dearest Olivia, let me help," Virion offered.

When Olivia looked up hopefully the archer gave her a grin and a sly wink.

"But in return you simply must join me for a nightcap," he said. "I have been lucky enough to locate a bottle of the most winsome of wines from my homeland, and I was afraid I would not have anyone to share it with."

Olivia hesitated, usually one to abstain from alcoholic drinks. One couldn't dance properly drunk or hung-over, after all. However, her eyes took in the stacks of crates still behind Virion and she felt her resistance to the idea crumble.

"After the last few weeks I think I could use a good drink," she admitted shyly.

"And I guarantee you shall find no better," Virion promised her.

The shy dancer smiled brightly, glad to just have someone to share the burden with. A friend who understood what she was going through. She picked up the paperwork from where she'd left it sitting atop a nearby crate and handed it to Virion.

"I'll drink with you, but only after we get this done," Olivia told him. "I'll tell you what's in the boxes and you cross it off. We're about halfway down the top page, I've earmarked the one's I've already done."

"Very good, which side?" Virion asked innocently.

Olivia froze again.

"What do you mean which side?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

"I mean… these sheets all having writing on both sides," Virion explained slowly. "Did you… not notice?"

Olivia's jaw dropped. She had not, in fact, noticed that the paperwork was double-sided.

Which meant that they were barely halfway through the work instead of almost done.

For the second time that night Olivia groaned, fighting off angry, frustrated tears as she internally cursed her commanding officer.

"Why did I ever sign up for this!?" she moaned loudly.

Virion fidgeted awkwardly, doing his best to remain upbeat.

"At least with two of us the work will go quicker?" he offered unconvincingly.

Olivia gave an angry sigh, shaking her head.

"I hope that bottle you have is a very big one."

"Ah, not to fear, dearest Olivia," Virion said with a wink. "It is not alone in my collection."

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**AN: I don't even remember which month these two came out in. Sometime early last year. I love both of these characters to death, and calling Olivia 'Pinkiepie' is one of my favorite Self Insert jokes to date. **

**Follow me on twitter! -metalloverCAB**

**Please consider supporting me on (P)atreon! For just a dollar a month you get early access to chapters! An entire month in advance before I post them here! Five bucks gets you two, count 'em **_**two**_**, chapters of an exclusive Self Insert short (complete with original artwork in every chapter)! **

**There's a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It's pretty… uh… well, chaotic sometimes, but it's hella fun. **

**Check it all out, links are all on my bio page! Thanks for reading, and Nagaspeed! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Virion & Olivia**

A-Level Support

Once again evening had fallen over the Royal First's barracks outside Ylisstol, a quiet calm of exhaustion and hard-earned rest pervading the atmosphere as the soldiers ate, drank, and relaxed after their daily training and duties. Full-fledged members of the regiment spoke and sat with the newly recruited 'lids', as their General had labelled them, many of whom were quiet and even more exhausted than the men and women used to the routines. One recruit in particular was literally unconscious at one end of the long dining tables, his face already covered in profanity and hastily scrawled genitalia.

Said recruit had made the mistake of asking the General, to his face, what the term 'lids' meant. He had spent the rest of the afternoon running laps in full armor and kit as the General explained to his officers that it was an abbreviation of 'limited intelligence drone', and was something that the soldiers of his homeland called the new recruits. He had pointed to the recruit running laps as an example, stating that he was proof of the 'limited intelligence' part. The recruit had forgotten to address him as 'sir'.

The General had also drawn the first penis on the unconscious recruit's face.

The First Platoon's commander, Colonel Virion, had watched all of this happen with a detached smile on his face, content to allow the men of his platoon to blow off steam however they felt necessary. His smile had remained in place even as strong, dainty hands grabbed him by the scruff and proceeded to drag him bodily from the mess hall, ignoring the cat calls from some of the braver soldiers and hushed whispers spread through the room.

Olivia, still clad in her sweat-stiff uniform, could already feel the rumors spreading. She was silently grateful she was facing away from the hundreds of men and women watching them right now, sure her face had gone utterly scarlet from embarrassment as she did something so bold in front of half the regiment.

As they exited the mess hall Virion sighed, his grin finally dropping as he brushed Olivia's grip off his collar, straightening his uniform and cravat.

"I am so tired I almost don't care what this is about," he admitted dully.

"We are going to see Ben and Robin!" Olivia declared.

"We see them every day," Virion sighed. "Why, pray tell, is this instance so special-"

"Because I just had four whole crates of non-perishable supplies delivered at once and I still haven't finished with all the uniforms yet!" Olivia cut him off, her voice almost a shriek as she grabbed Virion by the wrist and resumed dragging him. "I have all my men, all of third platoon not on duty rotations, sorting and distributing uniforms and arms, and I now have to do these crates by myself on top!? We're taking care of this right now before I l-lose my nerve!"

Virion just blinked, sighing a little as he allowed himself to be dragged.

Olivia was tired. She was sweaty, her hair was as sweat-stiff as her uniform, her muscles ached, and she was sick of doing all this work on her own. Now was the time for action.

The two stomped through the officer's quarters, past a curious Noire and Lucina who glanced up from their game of checkers but said nothing, deciding not to get involved. Olivia had to practically drag the exhausted archer up the stairs to Robin and Ben's little perch, silently marveling at how much more muscular the thin dandy had become when she grabbed a better hold on his arm. And the blushing furiously at her thoughts as they approached the door to the small balcony.

Both paused, though, as they caught wind of the conversation already in progress. Olivia and Virion exchanged a glance, the archer shrugging before leaning his head closer to the door. Olivia felt bad about eavesdropping, but…

"… just saying, we're pushing some of the recruits too hard," Robin's voice said.

There was a grunt followed by a clank, the sound of Ben returning the weight bar to its stand.

"I know," the general panted. "And I'm worried about Virion and Olivia. They're both pushing themselves too hard, and we're not exactly helping."

There was a pause before Robin exhaled, the acrid scent of the weed she smoked reaching the pair in the doorway.

"But this stuff needs to get done. Especially organizing all the supplies. Virion's just being stubborn."

"It won't be for much longer. Their fitness level is adequate now. Hell, it's better than adequate. I'm going to rotate them onto some lighter exercise to keep them in shape and start doing some more specialized training. That ought to give Virion and his boys a break, but…"

"The problem is with Third Platoon," Robin agreed. "We need to get this work done, now, before it backs up. The recruits need their gear, and we need to be ready to deploy at a moment's notice."

"Fuck it, assign the next batch of recruits to the Third, I don't care how combat-capable they are. Olivia needs more hands. I hate seeing her so run-down."

"What about Virion?"

"Fuck Virion. If I catch him hitting on Noire again I'll kill him with my teeth."

Robin burst into laughter as Ben grunted to the sound of the weight bar being lifted again, and in the darkened doorway Virion and Olivia exchanged another look. Virion shook his head, and with a very quiet sigh Olivia led them back down the stairs.

"Th-they… are thinking about us," she said softly.

"I believe, my dear, that we have gravely underestimated our commanding officers," Virion said pensively. "Sometimes it is hard to recall that both of them are far more brilliant than they let on."

"So what do we do now?" Olivia asked meekly.

"I do not know," Virion admitted. "Although for my finest of selves I believe a bath and a good night's sleep are in order. Why not give them some time and see what becomes of their discussion?"

"Right," Olivia nodded. "Right. That's probably… the best thing to do right now."

They stood there in silence a moment, the dancer waiting for the archer to take his leave first. After another few moments the silence became awkward, and Olivia fidgeted.

"Olivia," Virion said with a small grin.

"Y-yes!?" she squeaked.

"If you would like to join me for my bath I would not protest, but otherwise I will need my hand back."

She looked down to where she was still gripping Virion's wrist, promptly dropping it and leaping back with a sound similar to a tea kettle at full boil.

"Ah, alack, once more I bathe alone," Virion sighed theatrically, finally taking his leave.

And leaving a practically catatonic Olivia to blush at the base of the stairs.

* * *

A+ Level Support

A week had passed since Olivia and Virion had accidentally overheard their 'evil overlords' discussing what to do about their current levels of fatigue and burn-out. The very next morning General Ben himself had practically frog-marched an entire squad's worth of recruits to Olivia's storage room, and according to Virion had sat the archer down for a meeting afterwards to discuss the next stage of the First Platoon's training with himself and Robin.

They had been as good as their word. Olivia had the help she needed, and Virion was getting a break on the PT.

Olivia smiled a little, swirling the fragrant red wine in her long-stemmed glass around and enjoying the summery scent that the liquid gave off. After spending so much time with Virion lately she found herself growing accustomed to such fine wines, and had even gone so far as to procure a few bottles for herself.

"Ah, I do so love this vintage," Virion sighed blissfully. "Twas the year my mother and father were wed, back in Rosanne."

Sitting together in the Officer's Lounge, as the common space outside of their quarters was becoming known as, Olivia perked up.

"Isn't wine more valuable the older it gets?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Ah, it is," Virion sighed, closing his eyes and smiling as he leaned back in his chair. "And before you begin to have a neurotic breakdown as you are so wont to do, fret not; I felt that a small celebration was in order. We succeeded in changing things for the better around here! To our victory over our brilliant, pig-headed commanders!"

Virion held up his own glass in a toast, Olivia giggling and emulating him. The two delicate glasses made a soft 'chink', barely touching as the two toasted their 'victory'. Even though, technically, they had done very little towards said outcome.

They both took long sips from their glasses, Virion draining his own before sighing and leaning back with a great grin on his face.

"We are learning basic tactics now," he chuckled. "Imagine that; an entire platoon with the knowledge to make their own decisions. Truly a terrifying thought."

Olivia smiled herself now, running her fingertips around the rim of her glass. A soft, pleasant ringing came from the wineglass, her smile widening slightly.

"I finally have enough troops of my own to get that warehouse under control," she said after a moment. "I actually don't know what I'll do with them when we're done!"

Virion gave a very ungentlemanly snort, which he would later attribute to the wine, and grinned. "I suppose you may just have to organize some sort of regimental dance troupe!"

Olivia's face lit up at the prospect, causing Virion to burst into laughter.

"Yes, I thought you might like that idea," he laughed. "In truth, I was thinking more along the lines of a 'Regimental Band'; such things are used in the Valmese army, and are said to be good for morale. However, given your skill-set…"

"Oh, Virion! That's a brilliant idea!" Olivia beamed.

In one quick action she drained the remainder of her glass, feeling a slight pang of guilt for drinking such lovely wine so quickly, and jumped up. She set the glass aside on the low table next to Virion's before skipping over to him, laughing as she placed a quick kiss on the shocked archer's cheek.

Then, humming to herself with a wide smile, Olivia spun away from him and started to do something she hadn't done in weeks.

Olivia began to dance.

She danced her favorite kind of dance, her limbs gracefully moving in an improvised fashion as she expressed her relief and excitement. She forgot her fatigue from another day of hard work; she forgot her past frustration at the responsibility heaped on her by her friends; she even forgot that Virion was watching. All she could think about was moving, her whole body singing with the need to dance and express what she felt. It was something she absolutely loved to do, just letting her body move without conscious thought and allowing everything inside to spill out, but it was something that she hadn't had the energy for in quite some time.

She wasn't sure how long she danced, but when Olivia was finished she found a light sheen of sweat coating her skin, her breathing slightly heavier as she basked in the afterglow.

Then Virion began to slowly clap.

"My word," he breathed, smiling just as wide as she had been. "It has been quite some time since I have seen one of those most dashing of dances."

Olivia froze, having totally forgotten Virion was even there. Her eyes widened, her mouth slack as she remembered where she was.

Then she realized that it wasn't just _one _person clapping.

"Damn, girl!" Ben laughed, leaning against the wall next to the stairs. "You still got it!"

"That was lovely, Olivia," Robin said, a gentle smile on her face next to him.

"I am in awe, Lady Olivia," Lucina said from the doorway to her room. "I am glad I decided to see what the noise outside my room was."

"Th-that was incredible!" Noire added from beside her roommate.

All of these compliments crashed down on Olivia's fragile psyche like hammer-blows, her face blushing brighter and brighter with each passing word, until finally…

"Oh gods!" Olivia wailed. "Don't look! Don't look, don't look!"

Hiding her face in her hands the dancer spun and darted from the room, looking for somewhere she could hide until she composed herself and recovered from her embarrassment. As she left she caught a snippet of the beginnings of a conversation that, despite her horrible anxiety, still made her smile a little.

"Hey, were you two drinking without us! Stingy!" Ben said indignantly.

"You will stay away from my fine wines, you boor!" Virion practically growled.

It was nice that things were getting back to normal. Maybe once she calmed down Olivia could enjoy the familiar atmosphere herself.

* * *

**AN: Better late than never, right? I forgot to mention, unless otherwise stated all of these supports are platonic. XcelltasticX did some really great artwork for these pieces, and it's a shame I can't post them here. His dancing Olivia for that A+ Rank was great. **

**Follow me on twitter! -metalloverCAB**

**Please consider supporting me on (P)atreon! For just a dollar a month you get early access to chapters! An entire month in advance before I post them here! Five bucks gets you two, count 'em **_**two**_**, chapters of an exclusive Self Insert short (complete with original artwork in every chapter)! **

**There's a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It's pretty… uh… well, chaotic sometimes, but it's hella fun. **

**Check it all out, links are all on my bio page! Thanks for reading, and Nagaspeed! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Toady & Elle C-Level

Not many people knew it, but the Lord General of the Ylissean First Royal Heavy Infantry was far from as hopeless as he portrayed himself as in public. Behind his boorish behavior was a surprisingly keen and ruthless mind, one that would stop at nothing until it achieved its goal.

When the young maid Elle, all of sixteen and just having finished her training, had started working for him this realization had terrified her. It had terrified her more than the thought of working for a boorish drunken lout, in fact. However, once she had come into his service she had realized that he truly meant the best for Ylisse and the Royal Family, something she now took great pride in being part of.

She took even more pride in the knowledge that she was apparently trusted enough to know the truth of his cause; his and the time-travelling Princess Lucina's both.

It was with this pride in her heart that she fulfilled her daily duties of straightening up the General's personal quarters and common area, relentlessly cleaning until the living spaces were spotless. As his personal maid, and the only member of his household staff aside from Bertha in the kitchens, all of the cleaning and laundry duties fell onto Elle. Not that she minded, though; only caring for the General and his time-travelling daughter wasn't as bad as one might think. Both were fairly neat and organized, especially considering their backgrounds.

Elle glanced up, snapping to attention as the door to the officer's quarters opened, her biggest smile alighting her face as…

A tall, skinny man with his uniform shirt unbuttoned and open at the front shuffled in, stifling a yawn. Toady, one of the General's 'R-and-D experts', whatever that meant, took one bleary look around the room and blinked a few times, stopping on Elle just as he smile fell.

"Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine," he said with a smirk. "Actually, you being here makes my life easier. Which room is Isaac's?"

Elle's eyes narrowed at the question.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked suspiciously.

"He left a bunch of notes for the big blowy-uppy-thingy we're working on in his room," Toady shrugged.

The tall man glanced around before falling back into one of the high-winged chairs, lazily draping one arm over the back of the chair as the other hand pulled out his pipe.

"But while I'm here…" he said, clenching his pipe between his teeth as he patted down his jacket for matches.

"Don't you dare!" Elle snapped. "Do you know how long it took me to convince the General not to smoke in here!?"

Toady froze, looking up at the usually docile maid with a blank expression, before sitting upright and tucking his cold pipe away in a pocket.

"Yeesh, what's eating you?" he asked.

Elle wilted a little, cheeks darkening in embarrassment.

"I am… I apologize," she stammered. "I have been slightly on edge of late, and… that is…"

"Okay," Toady nodded, leaning forward with an expectant grin. "So? What's eating you?"

The maid resisted the urge to cringe. She was well aware that the rumor mill in as tight-knit a community such as the army would be rife with all kinds of scandalous fictions within hours if she didn't come clean.

"I… feel useless lately," Elle admitted, her blush deepening.

"Come again?" Toady asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I look at all the General's other subordinates and think I could be doing more," Elle moaned. "I am the only non-combatant on his staff. Lady Robin is his tactician, Lady Lu- Marth is his assistant, Sir Isaac is his 'demolitions expert', and even you are also a soldier!"

"I am?" Toady blinked a few times before quirking up. "Oh, shit, I am, aren't I? But… so what? You know you're one of the most important people here. Without you the Boss wouldn't be able to find his own balls most days, let alone run this outfit."

"You are kind to say that," Elle sighed. "I just feel like I could be doing more…"

Toady shrugged. "Like what?"

"Fighting!" Elle said exasperatedly. "I want to be able to stand beside you all if I have to, not cower and hide away while he… while you all protect me!"

Elle cursed her slip, hoping Toady hadn't noticed. If he had, he gave no indication as he hummed thoughtfully and stroked his narrow chin.

"Well, I mean, all we do all day is train," the thin man shrugged. "Why not join in?"

"I have considered that," Elle admitted. "But I'm… not strong. I'd just get in the way, and I don't want to hold everyone else up. Besides, I have my daily duties to perform."

"What, all day?" Toady persisted. "Every waking hour?"

"Well, no…" Elle relented.

"So I'll get you started on a lighter training regime, one you can do in your down time in the morning or evening," he shrugged.

"Wait, what?" Elle said, caught up short.

"Yeah, sure," Toady said offhandedly. "It'll make you happy, yeah? Which will make the General happy. Which means I get to spend more time behind cannons and less time in the front lines. So everybody's happy!"

"Except me."

Toady and Elle both spun to the doorway where an irate Laurent/Isaac was standing, glaring at Toady.

"How long does it take to find some notes!?" the mage snapped.

"Got side-tracked," Toady shrugged.

"Try to initiate coitus on your own time," the mage growled. "We have work to do."

"Aye-aye, boss-man," Toady grinned, slapping his knees and rising to his feet.

"I'll get the notes," Laurent/Isaac sighed. "Finish organizing a training time. Quickly now."

The mage stalked across the room, disappearing into one of the bedrooms that the others shared, and Toady gave Elle an expectant grin.

"Do I even want to know what 'coitus' means?" she asked.

"Nope, because the General warned me that if I ever tried with you he'd kill me, and I quote, 'with his teeth'," the thin soldier laughed. "So. When do you get off tonight?"

* * *

Toady & Elle B-Level

Elle fidgeted, pulling uncomfortably at the hem of the dress she currently wore. The truth of the matter was that it wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was perfectly tailored to fit the young maid like a glove, a combination of efforts between the Army's Third Platoon and the General's own personal scouts, with input from Toady to make it suitably 'maid-y' for her continued work. However, unlike her previous, proper full-length dress, this new uniform was a frock that only came down to her knees. Her legs were covered with black stockings, and her shoes had been replaced with a pair far more practical for use on a battlefield than the simple flats she had worn before.

"Isn't this a bit short?" she asked hesitantly, patting the front of her dress down again.

"It's fine," Toady said dismissively. "You need to be able to move your legs. How did you even move in that old dress?"

They were outside of the barracks, Toady leaning back against the building in the shade while Elle fidgeted uncomfortably. In the distance the shouts and crashes of the actual training course could be heard, simply making Elle even more uncomfortable.

The young maid glanced down at the lazy soldier, Toady reclining against the wall and fiddling with a small piece of paper.

"It just feels a little… drafty is all," Elle admitted.

"Well, enjoy it, because your uniforms are one of a kind," Toady said with a small smirk. "You'll be the envy of every other maid in Ylisse! And probably every red-blooded man in Ylisse, too. Keeping those legs hidden from the world for so long was-"

"Toady!" Elle snapped, blushing.

"What?" he asked, looking up innocently.

"Must you be so crass!?" Elle seethed.

"Was I being crass again?" Toady asked, rolling up his odd little paper. "I wasn't really paying attention."

The soldier finished with his paper, putting one end in his mouth and lighting the other end with a small fire spell that Lady Robin had taught him. After a few seconds the pungent smell of tobacco filled the air, making Elle wince.

"Wow, Boss-man wasn't kidding, that is easier," Toady commented idly as he stood.

"Will you please focus?" Elle groaned. "Naga, I cannot believe I asked you, of all people, to help me…"

"Hey, wow, fucking thanks," Toady said, sounding genuinely hurt. "I may act lazy, but have you seen these abs? I didn't get them sitting around and smoking, I know what I'm doing."

The two of them faced off for a few moments before Elle sighed and looked down, her posture defeated.

"Have you been doing those exercises?" Toady asked.

"All of them," Elle responded.

"Okay, that's good," Toady said with a small grin. "Which means today we get to move on to actual weapons training."

Elle perked up at this, frowning when she saw what was in Toady's hands.

"Wooden sticks?" she asked incredulously.

The soldier held out two lengths of wood, perhaps the length of her forearm. Both sticks had been treated and were comfortably round, sanded back and smooth to the touch.

Toady snickered. "Yeah, right, like I'd hand an actual dagger to someone who's only ever held kitchen knives. We learn with these."

"But why daggers?" Elle asked, taking one of the sticks. "Why not a sword or a bow?"

Why not something more heroic, Elle thought to herself.

"Because one, daggers are small enough to fit under your dress," Toady said, counting off on his fingers. "Two, daggers are easier to train with. Three, daggers suit your size, weight and build better than a broadsword; you simply lack the muscle mass for something bigger. And lastly…"

When Toady trailed off and became distracted Elle frowned again, crossing her arms over her stick and glaring at him.

"'Lastly' what?" she asked.

"And lastly I use daggers myself."

Elle spun, Toady's reason for distraction becoming apparent as the General stepped around the corner, arms crossed and crooked smirk on his face as he approached.

"Thought I'd come check on things," he said. "How's it going?"

Toady opened his mouth to respond, but Elle beat him to it, dropping into a deep curtsey with a wide smile on her face.

"Everything is going perfectly, milord," she said, looking at the ground. "I will be proficient very soon."

The General snorted. "Toady, how's it really going?"

"Eh," the soldier shrugged. "I've seen worse. She's got potential."

"Good enough," the General nodded. "Keep it up. I have faith in your adaptability, Thundercat. Now, I need to go take care of some paperwork before Robin hunts me down like a dog again. See you both at dinner."

The General got a few steps away before turning back, the grin evident in his voice alone.

"Oh and Elle, I love the new dress. I'm thinking all my household staff are gonna need to wear something like that!"

Elle remained in her curtsey, furiously trying to fight the blush rising to her face as the General left. Once his footsteps receded, she rose and spun on Toady, violence flashing in her eyes.

"You bastard, you promised you wouldn't tell anyone!" she hissed.

"I didn't!" Toady swore. "He threatened it out of me! He thought we were banging, and he was gonna kill me! With his teeth! He cornered me, I had to give him something!"

Elle let out a long groan, holding her face with both hands. It was strictly against proper decorum for an employer to see their maid training or practicing; she was supposed to be perfect, present the ideal of the perfect servant, and until now Elle felt like she had performed that goal adequately. But now…

"Alright," Elle said, straightening and taking a deep breath. "We need to get started right away. My lord has faith in me, and I cannot let him down. So, how do we start?"

Toady grinned, holding his stick out before him and sinking into a fighting stance.

"Just do what I do, then come at me like you're trying to kill me," Toady smirked.

Elle mimicked his movements, sinking into an approximation of Toady's stance.

"Like this?" she asked, suddenly unsure.

"Yup, close enough," Toady nodded, still smirking. "Now, come at me, Thundercat."

"I will make you pay for that," Elle warned, eyes narrowing.

* * *

**AN: Ain't really got much to say about this one. It was my first crack at writing OC perspective stuff for the Self Insert, so it was kinda an interesting learning curve. I am happy with the way it turned out in the end. **

**Follow me on twitter! -metalloverCAB**

**Please consider supporting me on (P)atreon! For just a dollar a month you get early access to chapters! An entire month in advance before I post them here! Five bucks gets you two, count 'em **_**two**_**, chapters of an exclusive Self Insert short (complete with original artwork in every chapter)! **

**There's a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It's pretty… uh… well, chaotic sometimes, but it's hella fun. **

**Check it all out, links are all on my bio page! Thanks for reading, and Nagaspeed! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Toady & Elle A-Level

At the back of the barracks once more Elle glared, planting her feet firmly and taking a long, deep breath. Her hand flashed out, a glint of steel passing from her fingertips and flying through the air…

Only for the throwing knife to clatter noisily against the wall and fall uselessly to the ground. The paper target she had been aiming at was now rumpled, but remained otherwise undamaged.

"Argh! How do you meat-heads make this look so easy!?" the young maid groaned.

"Practice," Toady chuckled from behind her.

"You're enjoying this," Elle snapped accusingly.

"Yup," the soldier said.

"You're not even trying to hide it!" she half-shouted.

"Hey, don't get all pissy and take it out on me," Toady laughed. "I never lied about the sadistic pleasure I'm getting from this!"

Elle let out a low groan as she stomped over to retrieve the knives she'd been throwing, snapping her head back to glare at Toady as she did so.

"You're starting to sound just like the Lord General," she said warningly.

Toady let out a long laugh, shaking his head and wiping a tear from his eye as he approached Elle. The maid in question took up her position near the line in the dirt that Toady had drawn, eying the rumpled target with undisguised contempt.

They had been practicing with the throwing knives for the better part of a week now, and despite Toady's continued assurances she was getting better, Elle couldn't see any progress on her own part. After two days of only getting every third or fourth knife to even hit the target she had to assume that she was doing something wrong, and had once again called Toady in to help her.

"Don't let him hear you say that, he'll start thinking I look up to him or something," Toady scoffed as he neared.

"What are you doing?" Elle snapped.

"You want my help or not?" the soldier asked. "Your stance is wrong. Here, spread your legs a little more and pull your main foot back a little."

As he spoke Toady kicked at her feet, forcing Elle to shuffle until she got into the position he was telling her.

"Next, you're holding the knives wrong," Toady went on. "You're holding them too tight, and your wrist is too stiff when you throw. Relax. The idea is to get rid of these things, not hold onto them."

As he spoke Toady grabbed hold of Elle's throwing hand, the glint of the knife still in her grasp clearly not daunting him as the soldier began to massage her wrist a little.

"See? It's sore, isn't it?" he asked her.

This close Elle could smell the stale smoke scent that clung to the man, combined with the stink of the training ground that seemed to cling to the serious soldiers no matter where they went. Taking shallow breaths through her mouth, Elle reared back just enough to glare at Toady.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Toady blinked, clearly caught off-guard by this question.

"Teaching you to throw knives?" he tried.

"Why are you so close to me?" Elle went on.

"Because I need to make sure you're not hurting yourself doing this wrong," Toady said.

"You are very brave, considering I'm still holding a knife," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Toady gave a rough laugh as he stepped back, grinning and shaking his head as he planted his hands on his hips.

"You think I'm hitting on you?" he chuckled.

"It seems somewhat obvious," Elle deadpanned.

She stepped back, too, glaring at the soldier as she massaged her wrist herself now. Toady chuckled, running a hand through his short hair again as he grinned at her.

"You remember we have the same boss, right?" he asked. "The same foul-tempered, violent boss who threatened to kill me 'with his teeth' if I put the moves on you?"

Elle frowned, assessing the truth of the man's statement. Their gazes locked for a moment before Toady shrugged and looked away.

"Besides, I need this job," he said without looking at her. "I can't really afford to lose it by doing the one thing that the boss told me not to."

"I'm not attracted to blondes," he said, offering her another grin over his shoulder.

Elle gave a long sigh as Toady turned away, the soldier beginning to fiddle with something he had pulled from his jacket pocket. She turned away, glaring at the target against the wall again before looking down at the knife in her hand. With a sigh she relaxed her grip on it and threw the blade with a flicking motion in her wrist.

To her surprise the small knife embedded itself on the edge of the target, sticking fast in the wall.

"Well, shit, there you go," Toady said, clapping his hands. "Is this the part where I say 'I told you so?' Because I told you so."

Elle threw her head back, groaning to the sky as she clenched her fists.

"You are insufferable!" she snapped, rounding on Toady.

"And you are welcome," the soldier grinned.

Elle opened her mouth to respond, but shut it again when she realized that she hadn't actually thanked him for his advice, and the only reason she'd managed to even hit the target was because of it.

With a sigh out of her nose Elle drew another dagger and threw it the same way. Only this one went wide, missing the target entirely and burying itself in the wall next to it.

"Okay, so next we work on your aim," Toady said cheerily.

* * *

Toady & Elle A+ Level

Elle stood with her arms crossed as she watched Toady pace, silently proud of the new firmness to her limbs after her months of training.

Her mother and sisters had made fun of her at first for her new musculature when she had gone home to visit, but she had pointed out some of the other women in the army during a trip into town that day. Which had shut them up fairly quickly. Elle was firmer and 'toned' as the General himself had put it, but she was still a fraction of the size of the women like Tilly or the new Sergeant in charge of Fourth Platoon, Erutreya.

Toady continued pacing, talking to himself as he read off a 'clipboard', one of the General's little inventions. Said General had joined them nearly ten minutes ago, silently waiting with a smirk to see how long it took Toady to notice. The soldier seemed utterly oblivious to the rest of the world and Elle could only watch on in amusement.

"Okay, so your training is pretty much done," Toady repeated for the third time. "We got your physical fitness and endurance up, not quite to infantryman level but still above average. You're decent with a knife and your aim has improved immensely. Your grasp of the basic tactical knowledge is on par with the average infantryman, so… I can't really think of anything else…"

"Did you teach her to skin a cat?" the General said, finally breaking his silence. "That's pretty important."

Toady groaned, running a hand through his hair without looking up.

"Shit, no… where would I even get a cat right now…?"

Elle couldn't help but snicker, a few laughs escaping before she cleared her throat and put her prim and proper façade back into place for her master. Toady froze, a small sigh escaping his nose as he finally looked up.

"How long have you been there, sir?" he asked in a defeated tone.

"Long enough to know I can decide if she's ready with one simple test," the General smirked.

Toady nodded, gesturing the Lord General go ahead. Ben turned to Elle, who involuntarily shrunk away from his manic grin.

"Elle, as your employer I order you to punch me in the face," Ben said.

The maid blinked a few times, unsure about what she had just heard.

"Yes, you heard me right," the General chuckled. "You've hit me before you started training. This is the fastest way to check your progress. Lay it on me."

Looking to Toady for help proved useless, as the soldier was simply watching with a greatly amused smile on his face. Elle sighed, squaring up with her master. She was well aware of his quirks now, and when he got that odd little glint in his eye, she knew this wasn't something he would let go.

"Any day now, Thundercat," the General goaded.

With another small sigh Elle lashed out, squaring up and following through the way Toady had taught her. Pain shot through her knuckles as General Ben's head snapped aside, Toady giving an appreciative snort. A small spike of anxiety flared in Elle's chest as the older man made a thoughtful sound, massaging his jaw where she'd hit him.

Then, to her relief, the General smiled and nodded.

"Not bad," he nodded. "Good work, both of you. Keep it up."

With that, seemingly satisfied, the man spun on his heel and walked out of the room with a smirk on his face. Once he'd left Elle and Toady both let out the breaths they had been holding, exchanging a glance before beginning to laugh.

"You know, I don't think I'll ever understand that guy," Toady said, shaking his head.

Elle didn't answer, just wiping a few tears of laughter from her eye.

"So, I guess this means we're done now?" she asked instead.

"You think?" Toady snorted. "Not even close, girly."

"What?" Elle deadpanned, her grin faltering.

"'Keep it up'," Toady repeated. "Those were the Boss' exact words. We got you off to a good start, but you have a lot of catching up to do."

"But… but you said we were done with basic training," Elle argued weakly.

"Yeah, sure," Toady shrugged, beginning to fiddle with one of the throwing knives. "But you still have your daily training to keep your fitness and proficiency up. Then there's the specialization training; I think Third Platoon's specialized routines would be right up your alley."

"But where am I supposed to keep finding the time for that!?" Elle moaned. "I'm exhausted now! You want me to work more!?"

"Hey, this was your idea," Toady smirked. "You gotta see it through to the end."

"What idiot came up with a lifestyle like this!?" Elle groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"That would be me!" the General called from the next room.

Toady laughed as Elle gave a defeated groan, her shoulders slumping.

"Fine!" she declared, suddenly rising back up. "Fine! I'll be the best… the best… 'battle-maid' you've ever seen! You just watch!"

"You know, you're surprisingly competitive when you get going," Toady laughed.

Elle began to stomp away, thinking of the work she would have to do before her usual training that evening. There was cleaning and dusting to be done, not to mention the General's laundry…

Toady hummed a little, falling into step at her shoulder with that damned smirk on his face.

"Why are you following me now?" Elle asked. "I thought my training wasn't until this evening."

"I'll give you a hand," Toady said. "I've got the afternoon off, and bugging you seems like a good way to spend it."

Grudgingly, Elle internally agreed that she could use the help. She sighed before smirking right back at the soldier and playfully punching him in the arm. Toady yelped and dropped the knife, hopping back a little as it landed on the floor with a clatter.

"Hope you can keep up, then," she warned. "Because this is where I'm the master."

"Scary, scary," Toady laughed. "Just be gentle. Remember, I'm still in charge of your training afterwards."

The two of them laughed, even as they began to clean in the Officers' Quarters.

* * *

**AN: Ugh. I always forget about this one... May's chapter will be the start of Gaius and Tharja's conversations. I hope you enjoyed this look at the first OCs in the story! **

**Follow me on twitter! -metalloverCAB**

**Please consider supporting me on (P)atreon! For just a dollar a month you get early access to chapters! An entire month in advance before I post them here! Five bucks gets you two, count 'em **_**two**_**, chapters of an exclusive Self Insert short (complete with original artwork in every chapter) (This story, in fact!)! **

**There's a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It's pretty… uh… well, chaotic sometimes, but it's hella fun. **

**Check it all out, links are all on my bio page! Thanks for reading, and Nagaspeed! **


	5. Chapter 5

Gaius and Tharja C-rank

The sun beat down from above, cracked earth beneath the duo's feet crumbling as they trod over it. Gaius walked a little behind the slim figure of Tharja, her hood drawn up to keep the sun off her perfect, porcelain skin, watching her with a concerned eye.

It started just after they had entered Plegia's border, crossing the mountain range and descending into the desert. Tharja began to feel ill, even though she would never admit to it. More than once in the early, pre-dawn hours of the morning Gaius had heard her sneaking off and throwing up whatever they had eaten for dinner the night before. While this was cause for worry in his mind, Tharja steadfastly insisted there was nothing wrong with her.

For a while he just watched the arid land shimmer in the heat haze. Plegia wasn't all sand dunes like most Ylisseans seemed to think it was. The country had farmland around the coast, and even some decent scrubland and forests in the mountains and to the north. The terrain was just as varied as in Regna Ferox or Ylisse. But because of the fact that Plegia was mostly desert they became its defining feature.

At present the two Shepherds were travelling through some of the sparse scrubland, the same scrubland they had passed through during Ylisse's initial disastrous invasion to save Exalt Emmeryn. None of the small bushes reached further than Gaius' hip, and there wasn't another soul, human, animal or otherwise, to be seen.

It was boring, and around mid-morning the tedium of watching the uniform terrain pass by was beginning to wear on his nerves.

"So… how're you feeling?" Gaius asked eventually.

"I keep telling you I'm fine," Tharja snapped sullenly.

"I heard you sneaking off to puke again this morning," Gaius pointed out.

"Travel rations do not agree with me," Tharja sniffed. "I am accustomed to a certain level of comfort."

Gaius rolled his eyes before sighing and stretching his arms above his head. He let his arms fall, resting them behind his head as they walked on in silence for a while.

"You know, if anything happens to you the boss'll get real mad at me," he said. "C'mon, Sunshine, work with me here."

Tharja slowed for a moment, as if considering this.

"He would… be upset if something happened to me?" she asked slowly.

"That is why he sent me with you," Gaius yawned. "Bodyguard, defender, guide and company, all rolled into one. You, uh, didn't talk about why I was coming with? I thought you two were all… ya know… uh…"

"We are," Tharja snapped over her shoulder before looking ahead again. "However, when he says to do something, or to take someone with me somewhere, or to kill something for him, I do not ask why. All I needed to know was that I was to travel with you. That was enough."

"Okay. Creepy," Gaius muttered.

"What was that?" Tharja growled back.

"Nothing, nothing," Gaius sighed. "Far be it from me to question your weird relationship with the man that keeps me in sweets."

Tharja's pace slowed until Gaius passed her, thinking nothing of it as he fantasized about all of the cakes he would be able to buy once they returned to Ylisstol. So lost he was in his fantasy that Gaius didn't notice he'd overtaken Tharja until a strange, breathy gasp alerted the thief that she was behind him. He dropped his arms, glancing back with a curious expression that quickly gave way to fear that she had collapsed, but when he looked he found…

"Oh… he does care…" Tharja muttered, grinning and blushing.

The Dark Mage held her hot face with both hands as she stared into space, giggling amorously to herself as her knees trembled weakly.

"Do I even want to know what you're thinking about right now?" Gaius asked slowly.

"Probably not," Tharja giggled.

The sound was so out of place on the Dark Mage's face that it actually gave Gaius chills. He watched the spectacle as Tharja eventually came to a total stop, smirking to herself as she stared into space before she finally heaved a long sigh and looked down, hiding her eyes in the shadows of her fringe.

"Do… you really think he cares?" she asked quietly.

"Uh… yeah?" Gaius shrugged. "I mean, he wouldn't have sent me with you if he didn't. Right?"

Tharja nodded and smirked again, but this time it almost looked more relieved than anything else to the thief. She took a deep breath, pulling herself back up and correcting her posture as she schooled her features back into their usual scowl, pulling her hood down low over her still-blushing face. Then she started walking again, setting a pace that Gaius could only describe as a march across the desert.

"We should move quickly, then," she said as she passed him. "I don't want to keep him waiting."

"Hey, faster we do this, faster I get my cake," Gaius shrugged, falling in behind her. "Just don't push yourself. Don't want you getting sick and collapsing or anything."

Tharja suddenly stopped, spinning to face Gaius with a serious expression on her face.

"What?" he asked. "Are you feeling sick again?"

"I need you to get me one of Ben's hairs," she said.

"What? He's bald!" Gaius laughed.

"He still has hair," Tharja explained, frowning. "I need you to go back and get me one."

"Yeah, no," Gaius laughed, starting to walk again.

"If you don't I will hex you," Tharja warned as he passed her.

"Feel free to try, but there ain't a hexer alive that's managed to put a curse on Gaius the Nimble!" the thief laughed. "Go on, Sunshine. Do your worst. And keep up."

* * *

Gaius & Tharja B-Rank

The busy chattering of the marketplace was all around Gaius, strolling along behind Tharja and feigning disinterest as he gazed around the vendors' stalls. The truth, however, was that this was all a carefully constructed façade. Gaius' hand lingered close to his dagger beneath his cloak, his disinterested stare taking in every tiny grain of information as he swept through the markets behind the mage.

They were, after all, Plegian traitors and Ylissean 'heroes.' Even if Gaius wasn't from either nation, he'd still turned traitor on Plegia after they had conscripted him and fought for Ylisse. Tharja, though, had betrayed the late King's own honor guard, and would be in grave danger if she were discovered.

At least, Gaius grumped to himself, she fit in better than a pale, wiry, ginger-haired thief.

They had arrived in the city of Saiqat the previous evening, apparently just a stone's throw from Tharja's family's estate, and chosen to stay the night. They had taken up for the evening at an inn that Anna had suggested before they had left Ylisse, run by a strikingly familiar-looking read-head woman with a devilish grin, and now were wandering through the crowded marketplace looking for some breakfast.

"Ugh. Everything here smells like spice," Gaius complained. "Like curry and cinnamon."

Tharja sneered over her shoulder at him, still looking a little pale and haggard. She had gotten the vomiting under control with a hex, but Gaius could tell she was still exhausted. Even if she'd never admit it. The fact that she was carrying her heavy cloak under her arm instead of wearing it was a dead giveaway.

"You will have to forgive my homeland for not stinking of ale and confectionary like your precious Ylisse does," she snapped.

"Hey, I'm actually Valmese," Gaius smirked. "And it stinks over there, too. All mint and yogurt and… blegh. At least the Ylisseans know how to make decent food."

"I hope your teeth fall out," Tharja deadpanned, turning her back and continuing through the crowded market.

Gaius just smirked, following along obediently. She had been even grouchier after her last attempts at cursing him had simply resulted in Gaius feeling better than he had in months. For some reason she couldn't just accept the fact that Dark Magic didn't work on him. Which was fine; it gave him no end of entertainment watching her tear her hair out over-

Gaius froze, eyes widening as the wind in the marketplace shifted.

"Wait," he called.

Tharja halted, huffing and glaring at the thief as he raised his nose and started to sniff. Some of the passers-by began giving them strange looks, but ignored the travelers once they realized that Tharja was in fact a Dark Mage. She stalked back over to where Gaius was still sniffing the air, her heavy footsteps making small clouds of dust with her passing.

Being a thief, Gaius had trained his senses to detect minute changes in his environment at all times. It was an occupational necessity. He could always tell when someone was moving around him, he caught even the slightest flickers of movement, and he could single out a single scent in a crowded, smelly marketplace like this with ease. Even while he had an irate Dark Mage looking like she was going to cram his own dagger down his throat any second now.

"You smell that, Sunshine?" Gaius asked, still sniffing.

"All I smell is the… marketplace," Tharja said with a disgusted look on her face. "And it is making me nauseous, so if you could please act ridiculous somewhere else-"

"Caster sugar," Gaius declared, setting off through the crowd suddenly.

"What?" Tharja almost snarled, hurrying to keep up with him.

"That's what I can smell," he explained hurriedly. "Caster sugar. And ginger root. And honey and…"

They pushed through the crowd as Gaius trailed off, Tharja struggling to keep pace with the usually languid thief. He knew he was drawing attention to them as he shoved unceremoniously through the throngs of people, actually beginning to meet some resistance as he pushed towards the buildings at the edge of the markets. But it didn't matter, because-

"Yes!" Gaius cried, falling to his knees as a tear ran down his cheek.

Tharja panted, growling as she caught up with him and saw what he had been so desperate to reach.

"A Ylissean bakery?" she asked. "Really? That was what was so important!?"

Gaius didn't respond, too overcome with joy and rapture to speak. He shakily rose to his feet, stumbling towards the pristine glass shopfront window that displayed the master-crafted cakes and desserts inside.

And then promptly pressed his face against the glass.

"Go on without me I'll catch up," Gaius said, face still mashed against the glass.

"This is idiotic!" Tharja snapped.

"This is my life!" Gaius shouted back.

"You are idiotic!" Tharja shouted.

"Your face is idiotic!" Gaius growled. "And I'm hungry!"

"Fine!" Tharja glowered, calming. "If it means we can be on our way I will buy you one of those… things."

"Eclairs," Gaius corrected.

"Fine! I don't care!" Tharja snapped, actually throwing her hands in the air.

"You should get something for yourself, too," the thief suggested, finally turning to face her with a wry grin. "After all, it wouldn't do for you to waste away before you see the Boss again. He'd be devastated."

Tharja froze, shooting a practically icy death-glare at the thief.

"I know what you're doing," she growled. "And if you think such transparent manipulation will work on me…"

"I'd be totally right, don't try to deny it," Gaius chuckled. "Less talk, more éclair. Please."

"You had better pray that none of my curses ever work on you," Tharja warned dangerously.

The Dark Mage then turned on her heel and stomped into the small bakery, much to Gaius' amusement.

* * *

**AN: Whoops. Totally forgot about this last month. My bad. **

**Follow me on twitter to find out how you can support my work! -metalloverwrites**

**There's a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It's pretty… uh… well, chaotic sometimes, but it's hella fun. **

**Check it all out, links are all on my bio page! Thanks for reading, and Nagaspeed!**


	6. Chapter 6

Gaius and Tharja A-rank

Gaius twitched a little as he perched on a small, low stool, looking awkwardly around the small tent they had found themselves in. Beside him Tharja sat with a stormy countenance, pointedly glaring everywhere but in his direction.

After weeks of vomiting, worse-than-normal mood swings and fatigue Gaius had finally put his foot down and forced the Dark Mage to grudgingly seek the services of a healer. Of course, Tharja being a Dark Mage from an affluential family meant that she couldn't just go see a city doctor or priest. No, that would be too easy. Instead they had spent the entire day hiking out to Naga-only-knew where, looking for the nomadic shaman that Tharja had consented would be an acceptable carer for her unknown malady.

And Gaius had been drafted as her pack mule for the journey.

"You know, it's not like I don't have my own job to be doing out here," Gaius muttered, mostly to himself.

It was true, too; the Boss had given him the task of rounding up every Chon'sinian expat and refugee he could find and offering them positions in the army. So far he'd found a fair few that had already begun the trek back to Ylisstol just in Saiqat. Refugees from the look of them, but there were a few in the group that had given his finely-honed danger sense a few good jolts, so he wouldn't be underestimating them. Not that it mattered now, though; now, they were the Boss and Prince Blue's problems.

"Stop your incessant whining," Tharja hissed. "I already feel ill enough without you adding the migraine."

And that was what had cinched the matter; when a woman like Tharja _admitted_ she was feeling ill, it was most assuredly time to find a doctor.

Or, failing that, some voodoo witch-doctor to rattle some bones and drink some hallucinogenic cactus juice to tell you what was ailing you.

Unfortunately, the entirety of Tharja's family, the traditional medicine-people practitioners of Saiqat's territory, were absent from the monolithic estate Tharja had led them to. The maids and servants had been no help, aside from making Gaius wonder what, exactly, had possessed his current company to leave such luxury for the Shepherds, either. So now, here they sat.

Gaius gave another long sigh as the 'shaman', and he used that term loosely, shuffled back into the tent.

The man was old and withered, thinner even than the slim Gaius. He had ash-based ritual paint coating his face and arms, shapes and symbols utterly lost on the thief daubing his flesh. Oddly, the man was clean-shaved, although his hair hung down past his waist in thick, matted dreadlocks. Watery grey eyes turned upwards to consider the two, and as the shaman sat, Gaius could swear he caught a whiff of opium smoke he hadn't noticed before.

"I've communed with the spirits," the old man slurred. "You are not ill, child."

"Evidence to the contrary," Gaius muttered, earning a swift elbow in the ribs from Tharja.

"Is it a curse, then?" she asked, almost respectfully. "Some form of hex I was undefended against?"

"No, no, child," the old man wheezed, before chuckling a little. "Ah. Life. So beautiful. So grand. So… unexpected. You been taking the old herbs, eh?"

"I have," Tharja admitted shamelessly. "Did they have some sort of effect on the balance of my energy?"

"No, girl! They didn't do anything! That's the problem!" the old man guffawed. "You, Tharja of the Saiqat Clan, daughter of Qibu ibn Ha'ni al-Mushai, are with child. Congratulations are in order, eh?"

There was a beat. Another.

Words were heard and went uncomprehended.

Slowly, Gaius' eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

Slowly, Tharja raised her hands to her own gaping mouth, face flushing with joy.

"It's not mine!" Gaius cried on instinct.

Tharja didn't respond, face still frozen in rapture.

"No, outlander, it's not," the Shaman chortled. "It's something I've never seen before. Even the spirits were at a loss. Not Ylissean. Not from across the sea. The baby's something special."

Tharja gave a little squeak at this, prompting Gaius to scoot his stool away a little.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence.

"So… uh… since she's clearly not going to ask, how far along is she?" Gaius said slowly.

"Few months," the old Shaman shrugged. "Nature going to take its course, boy, so I'd not move her around too much."

Tharja gave a strangled gasp, her face still almost radiating pure joy.

"Oh that is so creepy," Gaius shuddered.

"Many of the mages get like that," the Shaman explained. "They spend so long looking too close at the energy of the world they forget that life has a way all its own, don't expect it to be creeping up on them like this."

"Well, congrats, Sunshine!" Gaius declared, slapping his thighs and standing. "I'd better be going, though, lots of cities to visit and all that! Gotta take care of the job the Boss gave me and all!"

He managed one step towards the entrance of the tent before one of Tharja's hands shot out, gripping his old cloak like a vise and yanking him back.

"I will need an assistant," she said, turning to him with an ear-to-ear smile still on her face.

"You seem fine to me," Gaius said quickly.

"I will soon find my movement hindered," Tharja explained mildly, smile never faltering.

"So… ask the… maids!" Gaius grunted, desperately trying to free his cloak from her hand.

"I am asking you."

"I have my own job!" Gaius groaned.

"And now you have another," Tharja declared, rising fluidly to her feet.

She turned and bowed deeply to the Shaman, who simply chortled and waved them off as the Dark Mage dragged the thief, wholly unwillingly, back out into the desert.

* * *

Gaius and Tharja A+

"Gaius! Gaius, where are you!?"

The wiry thief in question gave a low groan, sinking deeper into his despair. Or was that just his chair? He had, after all, only just sat down…

"Gaius!?" the voice called again, screeching in his head like nails on a chalkboard.

"I'm comin' already!" he snapped, painfully lurching to his feet. "Jeez, Sunshine, don't bust a gut or nothin'!"

Gaius winced as his blistered and raw feet took his bodyweight once more, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips as he trudged through the old Dark Mage mansion Tharja had made her lair in. Of course, being of Plegian design meant that it was spacious and open to allow for the flow of cooling air through the desert building, thin gossamer curtains often the only thing separating rooms from one another, but still she had managed to make the space feel claustrophobic and dingy.

Or maybe that was the sleep depravation and fatigue. He couldn't really tell any more.

Popping another lollipop into his mouth, the sugar the only thing keeping Gaius on his feet right now, he proceeded to shamble drunkenly through the mansion. He ignored the servants that scuttled around him, the Plegian women doing their best to ignore him, too. Apparently, it was 'improper', him being there while Tharja was unwed. The thought brought a smirk to his tired face.

"What?" Gaius groaned, pushing aside another flow of curtain and finding the source of the noise.

A heavily pregnant Tharja glared at him from where she was leaning over a bubbling cauldron, the contents of the pot giving off an unearthly, eldritch glow and casting her face in stark shadows.

"The fumes from that cannot be good for the kid," Gaius commented idly, leaning against the closest column.

"I told you to come see me the moment you returned," Tharja seethed.

"I just got back!" he shot back indignantly.

"Then why weren't you here?" Tharja ground out.

"I needed to sit down," Gaius grumbled. "Tired. Head's still spinning."

"Drink more water when you go out, and come here now," Tharja demanded imperiously.

Gaius rolled his eyes, stomping over to the cauldron somewhat petulantly. He stopped halfway across the room, watching curiously as a cat doing its best to flap its front arms like wings ran across his path, chased by a small desert bird desperately using its wings as front legs.

"Okay, what?" he muttered.

Gaius shook his head and continued over to Tharja. While this spectacle had been up there on the 'weird level meter' it was still not the weirdest thing he had seen since coming to Plegia.

That particular title still belonged to Tharja's ecstatic smile…

"Alright, what do you- hurk!"

Gaius' grouching was cut short when Tharja grabbed him by the bandana, yanking his head down and jamming her fingers in his mouth to pull out his tongue. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she studied his tongue and mouth before forcibly turning his head to the side and looking into his ears, then again to study his eyes and nostrils.

"Hmmm… no discoloration of the mucus membranes… no buildup in orifices… no change in mucus consistency, I take it? No… suddenly feeling like another person? A house servant, perhaps?"

"What in Naga's sweet blasphemous-" Gaius started…

… only to be cut off again as Tharja leaned back with an irritated sigh, crossing her arms and resting them on her bulging stomach.

"I had thought for sure that the hex I used would have worked this time," she muttered darkly.

"Are we seriously still on this?" Gaius frowned.

Tharja waved a hand dismissively, turning away.

"Never mind," she growled. "Very well. I concede. You are simply unhexable. Congratulations."

Tharja proceeded to stomp out of the room, leaving Gaius alone with a bubbling cauldron, a cat-bird and a bird-cat. The thief furrowed his brow, rubbing the back of his head in utter confusion before sighing and walking back the way he had come in.

"He is not paying me enough for this," Gaius muttered under his breath.

* * *

After nearly a year, the white spires of Ylisstol one more greeted Gaius' gaze. With an exhausted groan the thief sunk down to the ground, relieving himself of his heavy pack for a short break, whilst his charge grunted and rolled her eyes. Tharja walked on a few more steps, pausing to turn back and glare at him while she bounced a small bundle in her arms at the same time. Little baby Noire, Tharja and the Boss' kid, cooed happily at her mother's ministrations, the child's delight going ignored as Tharja focused instead on causing Gaius as much misery as she possibly could.

"Just… give me a second," Gaius panted, leaning back on his arms. "I just… need a second… to catch my breath."

Tharja grunted in disapproval but otherwise remained silent. Progress on the cantankerous Dark Mage's part, Gaius thought.

"So… you must be getting pretty excited, huh?" he asked from the ground once he'd caught his breath. "Almost home, almost back to the Boss, right?"

A small smirk spread out on Tharja's face as her answer. Gaius shivered in fear; it was the kind of expression a predator made at the thought of a prey animal.

_Boss, I hope you're feeling fast today,_ Gaius thought, shaking his head.

"Ah, this mission went on a lot longer than I expected it to," he sighed. "An entire year… wonder what's been going on while we've been gone?"

"Probably more of the same," Tharja scoffed. "Time marches on. Now that the war is over and peace reigns between Plegia and Ylisse, one would assume that things have returned to some semblance of normality here."

Gaius looked up at the Dark Mage with a blank expression on his face as she glanced back down at him. A moment passed, and Tharja scowled.

"What are you staring at!?" she snapped.

"That's the most I've heard you speak in a year without throwing an insult in," Gaius smirked.

"I could always start trying to hex you again," Tharja warned dangerously.

Gaius laughed, levering himself back to his feet and readjusting the heavy pack on his back.

"You know what?" he grinned. "Do your worst."

* * *

**AN: Another month, another two conversations. This was actually the most actually plot-relevant side story I've done, even if it's not particularly long. The newer Support Stories I'm releasing are much more relevant than these ones ended up being. **

**Follow me on twitter to find out how you can support my work! -metalloverwrite**

**There's a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It's pretty… uh… well, chaotic sometimes, but it's hella fun. **

**Check it all out, links are all on my bio page! Thanks for reading, and Nagaspeed! **


	7. Chapter 7

Libra & Kellam – C Rank

Libra gave a contented sigh, strolling peacefully through the outer Ylissean burbs after morning mass. A War Priest was still a priest, after all, and although he wasn't attached officially to any church or temple it wasn't right for him to outright skip mass. No, rather than hanging up his axe and armor Libra had found a new level of acceptance, first among Prince Chrom's Shepherds and now as the 'Chaplain' of General Ben's army. It had felt strange, at first, being counted on to be equal parts priest and warrior and not shunned by either half of his whole, but it was a role that Libra had come to accept and now find a measure of peace in.

And so, as training for the army continued Libra found his peaceful days of tending training injuries and offering spiritual peace to any member of the army who wished it to be more fulfilling than any other time he had lived.

Of course, there was the lingering threat of the time travelers' prophecy of ruin hanging over their heads, but Libra had resolved not to live in fear of the future. 'Seize the day', he had heard General Ben saying before, 'live for the moment'. It was good advice, advice that Libra had taken to heart.

So, with this in mind, Libra smiled peacefully as he strode through the city, returning the greetings of the faithful and simply enjoying the morning sun warming his skin-

"Hey, Libra-"

"WAUGH!"

-when a voice from directly behind him made the priest jump a foot in the air, almost dropping his axe in the process.

Libra spun, coming face to face with a confused looking Kellam. The large and deceptively quiet soldier from the Shepherds froze, hand still hanging in the air where he had tapped the priest on the shoulder.

"Kellam!" Libra gasped, before clearing his throat. "I'm… sorry, I didn't hear you. How long have you been following me?"

"We… went to mass together," Kellam said dejectedly. "I was sitting next to you the whole time."

"Oh, yes, of course," Libra said quickly.

"No, it's okay," Kellam sighed. "Nobody ever seems to notice me…"

"Well, that's true…" Libra agreed awkwardly. "But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. All the time."

"You're just trying to make me feel better now," Kellam sighed. "I know I should be used to this by now, but still… we even left the barracks together!"

Libra watched the man wilt for a moment, Kellam almost disappearing underneath the thick, polished plates of his armor. With a start Libra realized that the other Shepherd had polished his suit of armor to an almost mirror sheen for the day's worship, and the thought brought a smile to the priest's face. He reached out, gently placing a hand on Kellam's shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"Perhaps you would like to walk with me back to the barracks, too, then?" Libra asked.

Kellam hesitated for a moment before the bigger man nodded, smiling somewhat bashfully himself.

"I'd like that," he said.

As they fell into step Libra realized for the first time just how large the other man was; even without his armor, Kellam would have been an intimidating figure. Yet, curiously, his gentle nature and lack of presence made him seem so much smaller.

"I'll admit, I'm kind of envious of you," Kellam chuckled after a while. "You stand out so much, so brightly, no matter what you do. I wish I did, too, even just a little."

He paused for a moment, a small frown creasing his brow as he looked down at the other man.

"It's… not a sin to be envious of a priest, right?" Kellam whispered nervously.

Libra couldn't help but let out a laugh at the odd question, shaking his head at Kellam's worried look.

"No, it is not," he assured the bigger man. "At least not to my mind, anyway."

Kellam gave a relived sigh before he chuckled and grinned in embarrassment.

"Must seem like a pretty strange thing for me to be worrying about," he said after a moment.

Libra smiled, resisting the urge to give a very un-priestly scoff and smirk.

"Kellam, I spend all day every day in the presence of General Ben and his recruits," the priest explained, a note of humor in his voice. "Very little seems 'strange' to me anymore."

They shared a chuckle, the progressive and oft times downright odd General something of a good-natured standing joke among the Shepherds. Libra knew one day that the rest of the group would be just as proud as he was that the man had once counted himself as one of their number, as soon as Princess Lucina's purpose became common knowledge.

Although, as much as it was Libra's honor to assist the Princess and the General in any way he could, he was still a Shepherd, too, and he still had a more pressing concern. He glanced over at Kellam, the taller man looking out at the passing crowds as if trying to make eye contact with anyone that would look at him.

"Have you considered not wearing your armor?" Libra asked. "Your pauldrons are quite large; perhaps they are blocking peoples' view of you?"

Kellam's gaze snapped back to the priest before he nodded slowly.

"Yeah, yeah I never thought about that!" he said excitedly.

"Perhaps we could even go so far as to change your appearance?" Libra suggested, recalling the conversations he had heard between some of the female Shepherds. "Perhaps something more eye-catching, like a new haircut?"

"What's wrong with my hair?" Kellam asked, a touch defensively.

"Nothing," Libra laughed. "It was merely an idea."

"Well, at this point I'll try just about anything," Kellam nodded. "Thanks, Libra. I really appreciate it."

"Of course, Kellam," Libra smiled. "I'm here any time you need. Just… wave your arms and shout if that's what it takes to get my attention."

"I was hoping I would have grown out of having to do that by now…" Kellam grumbled.

* * *

Libra & Kellam B-rank

Libra gave a small sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he lowered his axe. The Shepherds' training ground was empty save for him, so he had finally been able to get a decent workout in without tripping up on the others.

Sully and Stahl would usually be 'dueling', wherein the red-armored knight would simply beat on her partner for an hour or so; Vaike would usually make as much noise as possible and draw as much attention as he could while he trained, before challenging Chrom in any manner of silly contests; and one always had to watch their footing to make sure they didn't accidentally trod on Sumia after she had fallen flat on her face again.

As much as Libra valued and respected the other Shepherds, sometimes living and training with them was a trial. Which was why, of late, he had been happy to train with the Regulars instead, but they were out on a training mission at the moment. Leaving Libra to do his training at the oddly-deserted Shepherds' barracks, instead.

The war-priest took a few steps toward where he had left his towel and water, only to stop short when he noticed his towel dangling in front of him.

"Good morning, Kellam," Libra said with a smile. "Thank you."

It took a moment of focusing, but Kellam's armored form eventually appeared behind the towel.

"Good morning, Libra," the other man said with a grin. "Isn't it weird when the training ground is empty like this? It's nice to get some actual training done, though."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Libra admitted, accepting the towel and wiping his face. "Where is everyone today?"

"I think some of the Shepherds went to watch the Army's training exercises," Kellam said. "The rest are doing patrols for any bandits along the main north road."

"Ah, yes, I heard they were having trouble out there recently," Libra commented. "They didn't assign you?"

Kellam froze before letting out a long sigh and seemingly deflating.

"I think the General forgot about me again," he admitted sullenly.

"Well, like you said, at least it's a good chance to get some training done," Libra said positively.

"I guess you're right," Kellam nodded.

The pair reached the bench at the side of the training ground and Kellam leaned his heavy shield and spear against the wall as he fanned at his face.

"It is nice to work up a sweat, but this armor doesn't breathe at all," he grumbled.

"It is quite warm today," Libra agreed, pulling a little at his sweat-soaked clothes. "Also, I've been giving some thought to your lack of presence issue…"

The priest glanced over when Kellam gave a relieved sigh, a heavy clank reverberating around the field as he dropped his pauldrons on the ground. The bigger man rotated his shoulders a little before starting on the clasps that held his chest-plate on.

"Yeah?" he prompted.

"I think making you more eye catching is the best course of action," Libra commented, running his towel over his face again.

With a small, irritated frown as his tunic clung damply to his back again, Libra decided that Kellam probably had the right idea. With deft movements the war-priest began shedding his own armor, leaving it sitting in a neat pile next to the bench in no time. He undid the sash around his waist before pulling the tunic off over his head, giving a relieved sigh.

"Ah, that's much better," the now-shirtless Libra sighed.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Kellam groaned in response. "I know the armor is thick to protect me, but it's really heavy sometimes."

Libra looked up, coming to an instant stop and fighting the urge to let his jaw drop.

Kellam sighed and stretched his arms above his head, bulging muscles glistening in the morning sunlight. With all the armor and lack of presence it was easy to forget sometimes just how much bigger than the other Shepherds Kellam was, but looking at the man partially disrobed like this was a stark reminder. Libra almost felt self-conscious with his toned, trim physique next to the heavily muscled soldier. It made sense, though; Kellam did have to carry that heavy armor and shield everywhere, of course he would have a well-developed build. Kellam's musculature even gave the mighty Feroxi Khan Basilio a run for his money. Vaike would be simply livid with envy if he could see Kellam now. Or ever, really.

"What? What's wrong?" Kellam asked, looking over one shoulder behind himself.

"Nothing!" Libra said quickly, blushing in shame at being caught staring.

"If only the others could see you now, you would have no problem getting some attention," the priest muttered.

"What was that?" the bigger man asked, draping his towel around his shoulders.

"Just thinking about how you could get more attention," Libra corrected with a small cough.

"Right!" Kellam smiled innocently. "I think your ideas are good, though. I usually cut my hair myself, so having someone who knows what they're doing cut it will probably make a difference. Who cuts your hair, anyway?"

"I usually do so myself, too," Libra said. "Although lately I have been having the Army's tactician Robin do it for me. She is surprisingly good at it. I'm sure if we asked her, she would be happy to cut yours, too."

"That's great!" Kellam nodded. "But, um, could you come with me? I want to make sure she knows I'm there."

"Oh, come now, Kellam, I'm sure it's not that bad," Libra chuckled.

"You realize I've been training out here all morning, too, right?" Kellam asked. "And you only just noticed me now."

This brought Libra up short, and the war-priest cleared his throat.

"Ah, perhaps I could ask her for a trim, too?" he said, smiling weakly.

* * *

**AN: Ah, another month, another pair of Supports. This pair was really only done because XcelltasticX wanted to draw some man-meat, so I thought this pair up and let him get it out of his system. It's easy to forget that Awakening wasn't all waifus, there were some nice Husbandos, too. **

**Follow me on twitter to find out how you can support my work! -metalloverwrites**

**There's a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It's pretty chill, but it's also hella fun. **

**Check it all out, links are all on my bio page! Thanks for reading, and Nagaspeed! **


	8. Chapter 8

Libra & Kellam A-rank

Libra and Kellam sat on the stairs inside the entrance of the Royal Ylissean Armed Forces First Regiment's barracks, the bigger man resting his face in his hands and letting out a long sigh. Libra cringed a little at Kellam's dejected demeanor, silently resting a reassuring hand on his large shoulder.

"No one noticed," Kellam mumbled sadly. "All the effort was for… nothing."

The usually upbeat Kellam let out another long sigh, Libra opting to join in this time.

They had spent the entire morning with Olivia, the timid dancer happily going through a number of different hairstyles with the big warrior once she had realized that Libra wasn't standing in front of her alone.

… which, on its own, had taken some doing, admittedly.

But once Olivia had finally noticed him she had been more than happy, excited even, to work with Kellam to give him a new hairstyle. It had taken all morning, but eventually they had settled on his current style; shaved sides and back, fading into fuller length on top, brushed back from his forehead. Olivia had decided that it looked quite stylish and dashing, and Libra had agreed.

They had then, after the priest had promised to come back to Olivia for his own haircut later that week to get away from the oddly adamant dancer, organized some new clothes and walked through the marketplace to show off Kellam's new style.

It had been exactly the disaster that Libra had been dreading.

In that not a single person had acknowledged the big man walking at the priest's side.

They had even walked through the Shepherds' barracks, the public areas of the Ylisstol Palace, and all the way out to the Army's barracks where they now found themselves.

Not a single person had even glanced at him.

Not even their friends among the Shepherds, or the guards in the Palace whose job it was to be vigilant, not even their friends among the Army.

Kellam let out another long sigh, his shoulders drooping a little more.

"I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up," he mumbled dejectedly.

"It's okay, people just need time to adjust," Libra said.

"I've been in Ylisstol for more than five years," Kellam said. "You'd think they would have adjusted a long time ago!"

"Have you considered that it may be a curse?" Libra asked. "Perhaps I can perform an exorcism?"

"I tried that just before the General joined the Shepherds," Libra admitted. With the holy water and all? It didn't work."

"There's no harm in trying again," Libra said kindly. "If for no other reason than for me to know that the rite was performed correctly by myself."

Kellam nodded sullenly.

"Thanks, Libra," he said with a nod.

"And the Lady Tharja could possibly help, too," Libra suggested. "Her own knowledge of curses and hexes is somewhat astounding. I am sure she could help once she returns."

"Hey, that's a good idea!" Kellam agreed, perking up a bit. "I didn't think of that!"

"Not many people do think of the passive aspect of Dark Magic, no," Libra said. "I believe it could be worth a shot."

Kellam nodded, a small, hopeful grin rising to his face.

"I would never have thought of that," the bigger man said. "How do you know so much about Dark Magic, anyway?"

Libra had to stop himself from visibly cringing, settling instead for giving a very unconvincing fake smile as Kellam climbed to his feet.

"It's a long and boring story," Libra said hesitantly. "I'll tell you some other time. How about we-"

"Heads up, coming through! Move your asses!"

Libra and Kellam both looked up to see General Ben walking towards them with hurried steps, the man's duty jacket thrown casually over one shoulder, a sheaf of reports in one hand as he walked towards the stairs.

"Real talk, there are better places to chill than my fuckin' staircase," the bearded man said as he passed.

The two Shepherds turned to watch as the General made it halfway up the stairs with heavy, rushed footsteps before he stopped and glanced over one shoulder.

"Oh, by the way, Kellam, love the new do. Looks slick, man."

With that he turned and finished stomping up the stairs, disappearing in the direction of his office, leaving Libra and Kellam blinking in confusion at an empty staircase.

The pair slowly turned to look at each other, exchanging blank expressions for a moment before Kellam's face slowly split into a grin. The grin grew until the Shepherd had a radiant, toothy smile on his face, laughter bubbling up from within the big man until even Libra couldn't help but grin.

"Well, that was unexpected," Libra commented.

"It worked!" Kellam cheered. "It actually worked!"

The big man actually stepped forward, enveloping Libra in a tight bear-hug for a moment before backing off and continuing to laugh.

"Libra, you're a genius!" Kellam continued to laugh. "This is… I don't… we have to celebrate!"

The war-priest chuckled a little, shaking his head at the absurdity of his friend's mood's abrupt reversal. Kellam was practically bouncing now, his smile so wide it stretched his cheeks.

It made Libra feel good to see his friend so happy.

"I suppose we do," the priest agreed. "Come then. I'll treat you to dinner. It is about that time."

Kellam's good mood lasted the rest of the evening.

Even if Libra had to order for both of them.

* * *

Libra and Kellam A+ rank

The Drunken Goat Tavern was as loud and boisterous as ever as Libra and Kellam entered, the smiles on the two men's faces growing as soon as they crossed the threshold just from the atmosphere of the bar. Ever since Vaike had introduced them to it, the Drunken Goat had become the Shepherds bar of choice, and on most nights at least one or two of the group could be found here.

Gregor, Sully and Stahl were all already sitting at the bar, laughing merrily as Gregor told some off-color joke. All three of the other Shepherds stopped to wave and shout slurred greetings to Libra as he and Kellam passed. The Priest glanced worriedly at the bigger man as he waved back, but Kellam just waved with a large, goofy grin on his face.

They eventually settled on one of the small vacant booths towards the end of the bar, the tabletop covered in spilled ale and food, which Kellam cleared away with a handkerchief as Libra ordered their drinks.

As both men settled into their seats and waited for their first round, Kellam shot Libra another beaming smile.

"What?" the priest laughed.

"Do you know how long I've waited to go out and get drinks with someone and _actually _go with them? Not just tag along because everyone forgot I was there?" Kellam asked excitedly.

"Well, if you had just said so earlier we could have saved ourselves the trouble of the haircut," Libra laughed.

"What, you don't like it?" Kellam asked, brushing the hair across his forehead again.

"Oh, no, I think it's very dashing," Libra said.

Kellam went silent for a moment before saying, "For some reason, hearing that from a man that looks… like you, makes me a little uncomfortable."

There was a moment, a single beat, before both men broke out into uproarious laughter. The laughter only grew when the waitress, clearly not noticing Kellam and thinking Libra was drinking alone and laughing to himself like a maniac, gave the priest a very worried look as she dropped off two large tankards of ale. It took another few moments for the two men to calm down enough to take their first sips, both still chuckling into their mugs as they did.

With contented sighs, they both placed their mugs back on the table, still snickering a little as the waitress shot them, or Libra, another funny look as they wiped away their ale moustaches. Libra gave another chuckle, looking at the froth on the back of his hand.

"Perhaps if I grew an actual moustache I would not seem so effeminate," he said, his tone light.

"Hey, if you wanted to change your look, apparently now is the time," Kellam grinned.

"Perhaps," Libra nodded. "Although I have never tried before. I do not even think I really even need to shave, come to think of it."

"Yeah, I got the same problem," Kellam chuckled. "I tried to grow a beard. Probably the only time I've been happy no one noticed me before."

Both men grew quiet, contemplative smiles on their faces as they became lost in their own thoughts. After a time, and half his tankard of ale, Kellam glanced up at Libra.

"So, before when you were talking about Dark Magic, you seemed pretty knowledgeable," he started. "I guess I'm kinda curious how you knew about it?"

Libra braced for his usual habitual flinch at the thoughts of his past, the sting of old wounds to his soul to flare up again, but surprisingly it didn't come. Kellam, obviously mistaking the priest's silent frown for anger, held up his free hand placatingly.

"I'm sorry, if it's a sore spot you don't have to tell me…"

"No, no," Libra said quickly. "I was just surprised is all. When I was younger I was conscripted by a Plegian militia, and forced to use Dark Magic. Those with weak wills can lose themselves to the intoxicating power that it gives. I… was one of those people who lost himself for a time."

"Oh, wow, I'm sorry, Libra, I had no idea…" Kellam gasped. "Man, did I just kill the mood…"

Libra laughed, waving the bigger man's concern off.

"It is ancient history now, as I have heard the General say," the priest said, smiling softly. "I was just surprised that… it didn't hurt to think of it anymore."

"Why's that?" Kellam asked curiously.

"Perhaps I just needed a friend?" Libra shrugged, grinning bashfully.

Kellam nodded, returning his grin and hefting his tankard.

"Here's to friends, then!" he said with a smile.

"To friends!" Libra echoed as they knocked their mugs together and finished their drinks.

As they both slammed their empty mugs back down on the table, a commotion at the busy bar caught their attention.

"What do you mean 'you won't sell me any ale'!? Do you have any idea how much older than you I am!? I'm a fucking dragon!"

"I don't care! Go home, kid, it's way past your bedtime!"

"I will burn this bar to the ground! I swear I will! And I'll do it with my dragon's breath, too!"

"Looks like they hired another new bartender again," Libra chuckled, shaking his head. "I should probably go calm her down before…"

Libra looked back at his drinking partner, surprised to see an oddly contemplative look on the big man's face. Kellam took a deep breath, slowly standing up.

"Relax, Libra," he said, his voice a little shaky. "I'll go smooth this over. Uh, I know we were just having a moment, but do you mind…"

Comprehension dawned for the priest, and he gave a small 'oh' of understanding before a wide smirk rose to his soft features.

"Of course, Kellam," Libra nodded. "Go ahead, don't waste the opportunity that the Divine Dragon has seen fit to deliver to you. I shall go and avail myself to our other friends' company."

Kellam reached across the table with an embarrassed grin, clapping one large hand on the priest's shoulder in gratitude before beginning to thread his way through the crowded bar towards the irate manakete. Libra watched as Nowi jumped almost two feet when Kellam touched her shoulder to get her attention, before bending down to speak to the deceptively young looking woman. Whatever he said seemed to calm her down, because Nowi shot one last dirty glance at the bartender before spinning on her heel and stomping towards an empty table while Kellam began the arduous task of getting the barkeep's attention to order something.

Satisfied his friend wouldn't need his help, Libra rose and approached the trio of Shepherds still sitting at the end of the bar.

"Hoy! Young Libra comes the slumming with us this night, yes?" Gregor guffawed.

"I do not wish to intrude," Libra said softly. "But may I join you?"

Sully responded with a grunt, kicking out the stool next to her.

"Sit your ass down," she grinned. "What's your poison?"

"Ale, please," Libra chuckled, taking the seat.

Sully leaned forward across the bar, shouting for the attention of one of the bartenders, and Stahl took the opportunity to lean around his fellow knight to talk to the priest for the moment.

"Hey, Libra, was that Kellam with you before?" Stahl asked curiously.

"Er… yes, yes it was," Libra answered, somewhat at a loss.

"We were just talkin' about him," Sully said, sitting properly again. "What'd he do to his hair? Looks good."

"Ah-ha! Finally, young Sully noticing attraction of opposite sex!" Gregor said, before bursting into his distinctive, deep belly laugh at the knight's blush.

"I'll kill ya, old man!" Sully warned.

Libra just smiled and laughed along as a round of fresh ales were placed in front of them, thinking to himself that maybe this was all that any of them really needed.

* * *

**AN: Forgot to post this at the start of the month. It's been hectic, but I hope you enjoy! **

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